


Telephone Game

by Annie D (scaramouche)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Consent Issues, Episode Tag, First Kiss, M/M, Mind Control, Season/Series 08, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel starts to suspect that he's still a little a bit insane. It's the only explanation he can think of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Telephone Game

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a little after 8x10 (Torn and Frayed).

Dean’s prayers are loud. Castiel thought they wouldn’t be, once they’d left Purgatory and the rest of reality filled up the echoing spaces inside his ears. But no, Dean’s voice still rings clear as a bell, turning the rest of the world into ambient noise behind his:  _Cas, just wanted to check in..._  
  
It’s not a summoning. Dean may call him, but Castiel can stand right where he is (at a riverbank in Germany, his hands resting in the water) if he wanted. That makes all the difference.  
  
It wasn’t that long ago that hearing Dean made Castiel run. He’d been afraid then, because Dean’s safety is paramount. Castiel knows, logically, that Dean is finally as safe as he can be. He is in Sam’s company, back in the life he knows, dealing with monsters in his own territory.  
  
Yet the urge to run is still there.  
  
 _Seriously, Cas, getting a little worried here..._  


“You need to make him stop,” Naomi says.  
---  
  
  
Castiel goes.  
  
Dean’s in a motel room. There’s always a motel room. There’s always Dean pacing the room, only coming to a halt and standing up straight when he sees Castiel. Sometimes, like today, there’s a bottle of alcohol in his hands, which he moves around as a prop for emphasis.  
  
“Hey,” Dean says, carefully, guarded,  _Superman_ , until he sees Castiel’s hands. “Dude, you been in a fight?”  
  
“Samandriel,” Castiel tells him. “I’ve sent his vessel back to Heaven. We should be able to get some answers on what Crowley learned from him soon.”  
  
“Yeah, about that.” The bottle is placed on a table. Dean approaches, and Castiel tenses up. “Didn’t you say you didn’t want to go back to Heaven?”  
  
Castiel’s mouth opens.  


“You’ve been welcomed back,” Naomi says.  
---  
  
  
“I’ve been welcomed back.” Castiel makes a rueful sound, turning away from Dean’s expression of surprise. “Not entirely, of course, and I think I should... I  _will_  be keeping under the radar for now. But they agree that at the moment issue of Crowley is bigger than all of that... history.”  
  
“I wasn’t talking about them, I was talking about you.” Dean’s watching him closely, and it’s almost like Purgatory again. The good parts of Purgatory. “You holding up okay?”  
  
Castiel is startled. Then he is pleased. Then he is confused, because Dean’s taking his hands into his and frowning.  
  
“This is  _your_  blood,” Dean says.  
  
“The vessel’s,” Castiel corrects.  
  
Dean isn’t in the mood. “You know what I mean,“ he snaps. “I thought it was Samandriel’s. Are you hurting yourself?”  
  
Castiel looks down at the torn skin of his knuckles. He’d been washing his hands in the river.   
  
Except he can clean the vessel whenever he needs to.  


“Make him stop asking questions,” Naomi says. “He mustn’t suspect anything.”  
  
“He’s Dean Winchester,” Castiel replies. “He doesn’t let go so easily.”  
---  
  
  
“I don’t know,” Castiel admits.   
  
Dean’s hands are warm. Castiel can warm the vessel’s hands whenever he wants, but it’s important that Dean not pull away just yet. Castiel is unsettled, and the touch is grounding. He looks into Dean’s eyes and finds himself thinking of Purgatory -- of running, and being found, and being terrified at the undeserved  _sheer relief_  of being found, though that hadn’t lasted very long.  
  
Castiel feels like he’s still running.  


If anyone can catch him, it’d be Dean.  
  
Naomi’s face is very close.  
  
“Make him stop asking.”  
  
“He won’t.”  
---  
  
  
“I have to go,” Castiel says. “There are things that...”  
  
“No.” Dean doesn’t need Holy Fire this time. “We’ve been here before, Cas. You’d tell me if there was something going on, right?”  
  
A huff of laughter passes Castiel’s lips, and it surprises him as much as it does Dean. “I’m not conspiring with someone against you,” Castiel tells him. “Again.” Dean matches his smile, a reflex action. “I just have a great deal to think about.”  
  
“Then think about it here,” Dean says stubbornly. “You have no big mission this time. You tried out the hunter thing but it didn’t take? That’s fine, that’s cool. But you can hang around until you figure out what you want to do.”  
  
Castiel inhales. “Dean.”

“No,” Naomi says.  
  
“It’ll be easier if you just let me see him,” Castiel says. “Just let me stay. It’s when I’m gone that he wonders what I’m doing. He’s smarter than you give him credit--”  
  
“He’s also human.”  
  
Naomi leans in, in, in, and then she is his whole world.  
---  
  
  
“What?” Dean asks.  
  
“I need some time to myself,” Castiel says. “So much has happened, and I need to -- I hope you understand.”  
  
Dean makes a frustrated sound. “ _Why_?”  


“Not that,” Castiel says. “Please, he doesn’t know--”  
---  
  
  
It’s such narrow space between them already, and costs Castiel almost nothing to lean in and press his mouth to Dean’s.  


“It’s perfect,” Naomi says.  
---  
  
  
Someone needs to run. Castiel thinks it should be him, because he’s the one who’s kissing a shocked and unresponsive Dean, but he doesn’t. He waits, breathing against Dean’s lips until Dean pulls away and there’s just air and imbalance, Castiel pitching forward before he rights himself up.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Castiel says quickly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.”  
  
“That’s...” Dean licks his lips, then visibly remembers himself and grimaces. “Don’t sweat it, Cas.”  
  
“We needn’t speak of it.” Castiel turns away, abashed, but of all the things he’s said today this feels the most comfortable on the vessel’s tongue. “As you can imagine, I have a lot of things to think about, and I can’t think about it when I’m around--”  
  
“I get it.” Dean’s taking shaky steps back, walling up the empty space between them. “It’s cool.”  
  
“I don’t even know why I did that.” Castiel looks right at Dean when he says that -- eye contact feels  _important_  -- but Dean merely nods rapidly.   
  
“Just check in whenever you’re ready, okay?” Dean’s smile is meant to be comforting. “You know how to find me.”  


_Find me._  
---  
  
  
Castiel nods. “Yes. Thank you. See you, Dean.”  
  
“Right.”  


Naomi nods. “Good. We have work to do.”  
---


End file.
